


weird honey

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Gender/Sex Identity, Sex Toys, fleshlight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-02
Updated: 2014-01-02
Packaged: 2018-01-07 04:04:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1115282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>~staying up all night, talking blasphemous ash, weird honey~ (PWP where Harry is not 100% at home in his body and he and Louis use a sex toy to help work through the problem)</p>
            </blockquote>





	weird honey

**Author's Note:**

> warnings: bit of cissexist language as two people stumble through a vague talk about gender and sex  
> none of this is real and it's not even speculation. it's just fiction. nonspeculative fiction.  
> thanks to my boos ellery and saskia for holding my hand  
> title and summary from [this song](http://elvisdepressedly.bandcamp.com/track/weird-honey)  
> "louis is too good in this" this is fanfiction and i can do what i wANT MOM

 

 They fuck, kind of a lot. It started out as just something to do, to wind down or pass time. Now they do it at least once a week, and Harry’s not sure if that means something. It’s not as if they only fuck each other, but-

But there’s no one else Harry could imagine bringing this to.

* * *

 

It’s easy to talk to Louis, easiest thing in the world, always has been. Even when the words for _this_  feel like a basket of knotted yarn inside Harry’s skull, it’s so simple to push open the door to Louis’ room, flop down next to him on his big queen bed and nudge up under his arm until they’re fitted together, shoulder to toe.

“Y’alright, sunshine?” Louis asks, carding his fingers through the tangled curls at the nape of Harry’s neck. His other hand sweeps through the wrinkled sheets, searching out the remote and flicking down the television volume. It’s easy to talk to Louis, because he always knows when something’s eating someone from the inside- knows when to leave the tv on and not ask questions, knows just as well when to cut everything else out and prod at Harry until there’s nothing left to do but come out with it.

Harry swallows, feels his Adam’s apple pinched where it’s pressed tight against Louis’ shoulder.

“You know how we have sex sometimes?” And maybe it’s not exactly how he’d planned to start this conversation, but it- it feels right, especially when Louis huffs a laugh, buries his face in Harry’s hair.

“Yes, Harry, believe it or not, I don’t just erase my memory immediately after you come in your own face-”

“That was _once_ ,” Harry whines, but he’s smiling, pressing his lips into the warm fabric of Louis’ t-shirt. He’s quiet for a minute, lets himself breathe in the concentrated smell of _Louis_ , body heat and sleep and tiniest hint of clean after-shower sweat. It calms him down, so familiar that it eases the tightness in his throat, allows him to continue a conversation he’s not sure how to have. “I- there’s this thing I want to try, and it’s a bit...it’s weird, maybe?”

Louis hums, noncommittal, shifts his weight around until they’re lying nose to nose with their heads resting on Louis’ pillow. His fingers trail up Harry’s chest, ghost over the column of his throat, up, up, up until the tip of his index finger is pressed to the tip of Harry’s nose and Harry’s gone cross-eyed trying to follow. “ _You_  want to do something _kinky_?” he asks, eyebrows raised. “God, _warn_ me next time, Harry, or I might just die from the shock of it.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Harry laughs, turning his face down into the pillow to hide the way he’s gone all dimples and goofy grin. His heart’s picked up pace in his chest- not nervous about how Louis will react, exactly, just- It’s a lot. The idea that he might get what he wants, that Louis might give him what he wants. “Promise you won’t laugh, please.” It’s muffled by the pillowcase, but he feels Louis soften, go still and careful next to him.

“Never would,” he says, which isn’t strictly true, but it’s true in the way he means it- _never would laugh if you needed me to be serious, never would unless things got too heavy._

Harry’s quiet for a moment, trying to put the words in the right order. Any order. It feels like his tongue is stuck to the roof of his mouth, but Louis’ fingers are back to stroking through his hair, twisting tangles into the ends, and it’s so-

“Would you fuck me if I had a pussy?”

Louis’ fingers pause, and Harry rolls his face off the pillow to watch Louis’ reaction, judge whether or not he’s crossed some sort of line. Louis doesn’t looked panicked, which is nice, just sort of thoughtful. There’s a little crease between his eyebrows, and his eyes are focused intently on Harry’s, like he’s trying to dig into Harry’s brain and root around for context. After a moment, his fingers resume their path through Harry’s curls, press in a bit harder to scratch lightly at his scalp just the way he’s always liked.

“Like...like if you had sex reassignment surgery, or something?” Louis asks, sounding cautious as he tests the words.

Harry’s stomach swoops, leaves his head spinning because that’s not- it’s not what he means, exactly, but- “No, not- not like that, really. I-” And now his brain’s gone fuzzy, buzzing in a hundred different directions. Harry’s thought about that before- in depth, even looked it up- but mostly- “I like how I am now, most days, or I don’t mind it. But sometimes I feel like-sometimes I’d feel more myself if I-” He’s struggling, frustrated because he doesn’t know how to say any of this, but Louis is wriggling closer, pressing their chests and noses together and tugging gently at Harry’s hair until Harry goes quiet and pliant, melts into the bed.

“‘s alright,” Louis says, easy as anything, bumping their foreheads together. “We don’t have to talk about that part of it- now, or ever,if you don’t want to. Just tell me what you want to do.” When he crosses his eyes, pulls a ridiculous face, Harry can’t help but laugh. The tension drains out of him, leaves him boneless and warm on the duvet, and he can’t even pretend to be disgusted when Louis leans forward and licks the tip of his nose, ridiculous. “You and me, yeah? You can hit me with anything, H. You’re stuck with me.”

Harry’s breath whooshes out in one great rush, and Louis scrunches his nose up against the air blowing in his face. “Yeah, alright. Okay." Harry's talking even slower than usual, can't seem to make his mouth move how he wants. "So, the thing is, I got this, like, thing. Well, Nick got me this thing, actually, cause we talked about it, and-”

Louis rolls his eyes up at the ceiling. “Be more vague, Harry love, I’m in danger of actually guessing what you’re trying to tell me.”

“If you’d just _listen,_ ” Harry groans, but he can’t stop smiling so the effect is probably lost. “I mentioned it to Nick when we were drunk once- the, you know, the-”

Louis gives an exaggerated sigh, so big it shakes the bed a little, but Harry can see the upturn of his lips, the way his face is still soft. “The twat thing, yes, Harry, I _have_ been here for the past ten minutes.”

Harry swats him in the balls, hums happily when Louis doubles over and curls in on himself, glaring. “I was _saying_ , it’s not just- it’s not just like, a sex thing. But that’s the easiest part to deal with, you know?”

Louis doesn’t say _I know_ , and Harry’s sort of glad- that he’s not taking this lightly, not agreeing to everything Harry’s saying just to move the conversation along. “I don’t, really, but-” Louis shrugs, wincing as he straightens his body back out. “We can talk about it. You can tell me about it.”

Harry beams at him, and Louis throws a pillow at his head. “Don’t give me that soppy look, Harold.”

Harry pushes the pillow to the floor, rolls over until he’s straddling Louis’ hips and grinning down at him. It’s disorienting, just for a moment, how much they’ve both changed since the first time this happened- how Harry has to look down so much further, how Louis’ so solid now, yet it doesn’t feel much different.

“Can I show you?” Harry asks, figuring that’ll be easier than trying to make his brain work with his mouth.

Louis nods, pats at Harry’s hip with one hand and pinches his thigh with the other. “Please,” he says, pursing his lips to hide a smile, but it fails miserably. Harry stumbles a little when he tries to get out of bed, but Louis’ foot pushes gently at the small of his back, anchoring him.

When Harry comes back into the room a few moments later, black bag held behind his back, Louis is tapping anxiously at his thighs, watching the muted tv with a frown on his face.

“Alright?” Harry asks, nerves jumping at the sight of Louis so wound up. He’s scared, for a second, that Louis’ changed his mind, gotten weirded out in the time it took Harry to walk down the hall and back, but then Louis is spreading his arms, beckoning Harry to him.

When Harry’s shins bump the bed, Louis reaches up and pulls him down, jostles him around until Harry’s sitting across his lap, bag held loose in his hands while Louis’ arms encircle him, crush him in tight. They used to sit like this all the time, back in the X Factor house when they were scared shitless twenty-four hours a day. It happens less now, less need for it, Harry too filled-out and Louis’ knees too precious to risk it much, but it still settles something in Harry. His skin glows warm, heart evening out and slowing to match the even pace of Louis’ breaths where his face is pressing into Harry’s shoulder.

He’s quiet for so long that Harry gets impatient, happy to be comforted but ready to show Louis the bag. “Lou? Are you alright?”

Louis nudges his head under Harry’s arm until Harry gets the hint, wraps it around Louis’ shoulders and looks down at him with interest. “I don’t want to fuck this up for you,” Louis says quietly, serious as Harry’s ever heard him. “I don’t know anything about this, but I’m- even when I’m being a dick, I’m listening, alright? So whatever you need- if you’re not a guy, that’s cool, and I can- call you something besides Harry, or use different words, honestly-” He grunts, brows furrowing like he’s frustrated with himself, and Harry can’t even wrap his head around what’s happening. “I’ll fuck it up, sometimes, I know I will, but we can get a spray bottle or something. Liam and Loki 2.0.”

He’s babbling, words flying out like they do when he panics, and Harry just wants to kiss him, because that’s all so much more than he’d ever planned to ask for. “Louis,” he cuts in, pressing a hand over Louis’ mouth and grinning when he sees Louis’ eyes blink rapidly, like he’s just woken up from something. “Louis, it’s alright, really. I’m still not sure about all this either, okay? I’m not- I don’t think I need a different name, or pronouns- yet, anyway. I’m still _Harry_ , I just- it’s just my body, for me, that doesn’t always...work.” Louis is watching him carefully, lips in a tight line beneath Harry’s palm. “I’ve been trying to figure this out since I was a _kid_ , you know? It might take my whole life. If you can just-” Harry trails off, not sure what he’s trying to ask Louis to do. But Louis is still and attentive, arms wrapped tight around Harry’s middle and that’s a good start. “Just be with me, yeah? While I figure it out?”

It’s maybe a strange way to word it because they aren’t _together_ , but Louis nods anyway, squeezes Harry’s middle and says, “Yeah, alright.” His eyes shift from Harry’s face to the bag in his hands, like he’s just noticed it. “Wazzat?” he asks, voice rising to a normal level. He makes grabby hands for it and Harry rolls his eyes, shifting around until they’re sitting face to face, knees bumping. He sits the bag on the bed and nudges it toward Louis, biting at his bottom lip while he watches Louis tear out the contents of the bag until it’s all sitting on the bed between them.

Harry’s not sure what to expect, but Louis’ obvious helpless confusion is funnier than anything he could’ve hoped for.

“Harry,” Louis says carefully, placing a hand lightly on Harry’s knee like he’s about to break some truly terrible news. “This is lube and a flashlight.”

Harry guffaws, a great barking laugh that makes Louis scowl, lips turning down in a pout. “Wrong vowel,” Harry tells him, still laughing at the _look_  on Louis’ face.

“Wrong-? Lobe? Labe? Floshlight? Flesh- _oh_ ,” Louis says, eyes going wide. He stares down at the clear tube with renewed interest, reaching a hand out to roll it over so he can get a better look at it.

Harry blinks a bit, because he’d expected to have to do a bit more explaining- _he_ hadn’t known what it was until Nick explained it to him. Louis recognizing it by name is certainly _something_. “Naughty!” Harry crows, can’t help it, cackling when Louis’ face falls. “Naughty, naughty, naughty, how’d you know what it was?”

Louis huffs, picking the fleshlight up and tossing it lazily between his hands. “What I look up on the internet in my spare time is none of your business, Harry. Now if you can _stop laughing at me_  for a fucking moment, and explain what I’m meant to do with it?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Harry mumbles, catching his breath with a bit of effort. He holds out a hand, smiles when Louis’ fingers brush his as he passes the toy over. “I was hoping- I want you to fuck it, like you’d fuck me if I had- I know how much you love being with girls, yeah?” Harry licks his lips, swallows around the lump in his throat, can’t quite look Louis in the eye now that he’s started speaking.

“I love being with you, too, yeah?” Louis says, reaching forward to tweak one of Harry’s nipples until he pulls away with a gasp. “I’ll be honest, H, I’m not terribly picky about how my dick gets wet.”

Harry snorts, nostrils flaring because Louis is just so _crude_ sometimes, and in anyone else Harry would find it disgusting, probably. But Louis isn’t _anyone else_ , so here they are. “I just- want to watch you do it. Pretend it’s me.”

“You could get off on that?” Louis asks, and his voice has gone tighter, raspier now, and Harry can feel his own face going hot under Louis’ observation.

“Yeah, I think-yeah, I can.”

“Alright,” says Louis, eyes so dark that Harry’s skin crawls.“Yeah, I can- I can do that. Do you want it now or-?”

Harry’s flung himself onto his back in the center of Louis’ bed before Louis even finishes the question. He fluffs Louis’ pillow before settling back against it, heart hammering in anticipation while Louis just watches him with an amused smirk.

“Eager,” Louis tuts, laughing a bit, but Harry shrugs, smiles helplessly.

“Been waiting forever, feels like.”

Louis’ face softens, smirk sliding off into a fond grin when he reaches down to run his thumb over the bones of Harry’s ankle. “Well, I’m here now. Got you, yeah?” He doesn’t wait for Harry to answer, just leans back on his haunches and peels his t-shirt off, dropping it to the floor and waving his hand imperiously for Harry to do the same. “Get your kit off, dove; this isn’t a free show.”

Harry does as Louis says, because of course he does, and when he’s finally naked he looks back up to see Louis rolling the fleshlight between his hands thoughtfully. He seems to feel Harry’s gaze on him, and his eyes are bright with _something_ when he looks up, grinning with his teeth glinting too sharp. Harry’s dick feels heavy already, twitches a bit when Louis’ grin breaks into that fierce little snarl he gets when he’s about to tear someone apart.

“What-?” Harry starts to ask, but then Louis is crawling up his legs, pushing Harry’s thighs apart with insistent hands pressed too hard into the soft flesh. Harry complies, can’t spread his legs too much because of the way Louis is straddling his knees, but it doesn’t seem like Louis needs a lot. Louis takes the clear tube of the fleshlight and wedges it in the gap between Harry’s inner thighs, right up against his balls, then nudges his legs closed again. Harry blinks, brain foggy. He’s not sure what Louis is _doing_ , but seeing the plastic model cunt cradled between his own hips is doing something to _Harry_ , and whether it was intentional or not, it’s certainly not bad.

He whines, doesn’t mean to, but what can he do? Louis’ head snaps up from where he’d been examining the contraption he’d made of Harry’s legs, and Harry can’t seem to get enough air in his lungs when Louis shushes him, licks his lips and pats absently at Harry’s knee.

“Gonna treat you proper,” Louis says, quiet like he’s soothing a spooked animal, and that’s when Harry realizes he’s shaking so badly that the bed’s quaking beneath him. Louis pets at him, hand brushing Harry’s shivering tummy and hip and coming to settle over Harry’s hand where it’s clenching and unclenching on the bed. Louis twines their fingers together, a bit of an awkward angle, but it’s a nice anchor. Especially when Louis says, “Gonna lick you out, yeah?”

And he does.

Harry _loves_ the times Louis sucks him, might even live for those days. But in Harry’s mind there’s always been _something_  about Louis and pussy, ever since the X Factor house when he walked in on Louis with his face buried between Hannah’s thighs, hips rutting desperately into the mattress. The noises it’d made- wet sounds, slick and dirty, and Louis breathing heavy and deep like he couldn’t get enough of the- taste, or the smell, or _her_ \- it wasn’t the first time Harry ever felt strange about his cock, thought about being licked and fucked like that, but he’d definitely thought about it more afterwards. The feelings had gotten a focus after that, fuel.

That’s why it’s hard to look at Louis with his face pressed between Harry’s legs, but it’s _impossible_ to look away. The muscles of his shoulders are beautiful, rolling smooth under his tan skin when he moves his neck, his whole body getting into the action of- god, Harry can barely _stand_ it, the pink flash of Louis’ tongue against the slit of the fleshlight, pressing the body-warmed tube up against Harry’s ass and balls. Louis is so messy with it, his whole chin glistening with his own spit as he works his tongue down into the opening, lewd sucking noises when he gets too into it; his eyelashes are dark against his cheekbones, and there’s honest-to-god fire pooling in the pit of Harry’s belly, like he could burn through the mattress if he’s not careful.

Louis can do so much with his tongue- Harry knew that already, intimately acquainted with Louis’ love of using his mouth. It’s different though, just _watching_ him, without feeling the effects directly. Harry’s body knows how it feels when Louis points his tongue like that, flicks it against the head of Harry’s cock hummingbird fast, like he’s doing to the fake clit right now. Harry also knows what it’s like when Louis slows down, lets his tongue go soft, broad and flat, drags it heavy up the underside of Harry’s dick until Harry’s whole body shakes, and Harry nearly crushes the fingers of Louis’ hand when Louis lazily runs his tongue between the clear lips. Harry can see his spit sliding down the inside of the tube, see where some of Louis’ drool’s collected around the rim of the toy. It gathers until it bows under its own weight, spills over the edge and Harry watches it travel agonizingly slowly down the outside of the fleshlight until it reaches the tight skin of Harry’s balls, and _fuck_ -

“ _Louis_ ,” Harry groans, reaching his free hand down to push Louis’ face away. It backfires a little when Louis lets out a shaky breath, presses his face tighter between Harry’s legs and lets out a quiet moan that shakes all the way up Harry’s spine. “Fuck,” Harry hisses, turning his head into the pillow because he can’t look at Louis like this, at the tight lines of his back, the curve of his ass visible where he’s kneeling up to angle himself closer to Harry’s crotch. “Please, can you- fuck me now, please, Louis, please,” and that’s far too many pleases to be dignified, but-

It takes Louis a moment to really _stop_ , slowing the movements of his jaw before turning his head to the side to hide his face against Harry’s thigh. Harry can feel the wet caught in the stubble on Louis’ jaw, feel where his cheeks burn hot against Harry’s skin. When Louis finally looks up, Harry loses his breath at the raw hunger on his face, the way his eyes are glassed over just from _pretending_ to eat Harry out.

He seems to shake himself, eyes clearing and dangerous grin spreading over his raw lips. “You want me to fuck your pussy, Harry?” He giggles and it sounds indecent- but maybe that’s just because Harry can’t stop looking at the slick shining on Louis’ chin. “Bet you do. Bet you _need_ it,” he whispers, like he’s telling Harry a secret. Harry jerks at the words, spine bowing in because Louis is so- everything. Feels so good, looks so good, talks like no one else on the planet, and Harry can’t even _think_ , just babbles, uselessly, “Yeah, yeah, please, need it, need you to-”

He cuts off, breathless, watching Louis’ eyes narrow and his grin turn feral, like he’s caught a whiff of blood in the water. Louis drags himself up Harry’s body, skin sliding over skin until Harry’s covered in goosebumps and _Louis_.

“Need me to what, love?” Louis breathes against his ear, hot and sweet, and god, he has to _know_ , know Harry can’t possibly answer him. Louis tangles his fingers in Harry’s hair, rubbing at his scalp and pulling until Harry doesn’t know whether he wants to purr or cry. “Say it, babe, come on,” Louis presses, hands so good in Harry’s hair, making his eyelids droop heavy.

“N-need you to fuck my-” Harry’s chest feels tight, like its about to burst, but Louis presses kisses to his ear, down his jaw, over his nose, and Harry can’t do anything but tell Louis what he wants. “Fuck my pussy, please, Lou, need you to-”

Louis’ lips press against his, kissing him quiet until Harry’s breathing evens out and he’s squirming, rolling his hips up against Louis’ and sighing into his open mouth.

“That was lovely, Harry,” Louis praises him, soft and the tiniest bit mocking, but it settles warm between Harry’s ribs anyway. “I’d love to.”

Even in the sex-haze of Harry’s brain, that’s ridiculous, so he snorts, rolling his eyes. Then Louis is sliding off of him, pulling the fleshlight from between his legs and pressing it into Harry’s palm.

“Love your hands,” Louis murmurs absently, fingers skipping lightly over the cross tattooed above Harry’s thumb. Harry feels his own cheeks flush darker, smiles a little. Then Louis is taking a deep breath, tilting his head to examine the fleshlight like he’s working out logistics. Then he shrugs, reaches a hand down to pull at his dick where it’s thick and full between his thighs, and settles with his legs on either side of Harry’s hand. He drops forward so he’s on his hands and knees, head hanging down between his shoulders to watch himself line up with the toy.

Harry just watches, can’t even move his free hand to help Louis position himself, and his breath catches when the head of Louis’ dick catches on the spit-slick opening.

Louis looks up at him then, face oddly serious, and asks, “Ready, H?” like it’s actually Harry he’s about to fuck down into. Like he needs permission for this. Like he understands that it really matters.

Harry surges forward, kisses him, sloppy with his lips dragging over Louis’ jaw and chin, finally catching Louis’ mouth and just breathing into him, “Yes, yeah, please.”

He breaks away so he can see, watch the muscles of Louis’ back tighten and work as he presses his hips down carefully. His dick presses tight against the opening of the fleshlight, and there’s a moment of resistance, the toy too tight to fit Louis’ dick easily- then the head pops in, slides with a wet sound drowned out by Louis’ breathy sigh.

And _oh_ , it’s a lot more than Harry thought- because he can _see_ Louis’ dick, all of it, through the clear walls of the fleshlight, see the way his cock is squeezed by the ridges inside. He can imagine what it’d be like, if those were his insides, pulling Louis in, holding him-

It hurts, almost, the little flash of jealousy he feels towards the toy. It’s the silliest thing in the world, but watching Louis thrust down into the toy in Harry’s hand makes his chest ache with want. Louis glances up from where he’d been watching his own cock sliding into the fleshlight, and there must be something of the feeling showing on Harry’s face because Louis goes still, whispers, “Oh, _H_ ,” in that quiet, careful voice he uses when Harry’s about to cry.

Harry doesn’t think he’s about to cry, but he’s not exactly sure what he’s feeling either; he’s still turned on, but he feels distant from Louis now, like he’s giving him a weird handjob instead of being _part_ of it.

“Hand and knees for me, okay?” Louis prompts, grimacing when he pulls out of the toy and settles back on his heels. “Got an idea.”

Harry complies, limbs feeling strange after laying so tense for so long, but once he’s up he feels Louis hands rubbing over his shoulders and back, soothing. Then he sees Louis grab the abandoned fleshlight, feels the still-warm of it sliding back between his own thighs and yeah, okay, this might work.

“Clench your thighs, love,” Louis commands, soft, “Need you tight for me.”  Harry shivers, presses his thighs closed so tight that the muscles shake and burn. “That’s beautiful, Harry, lovely,” Louis says, and Harry can hear him smiling.

One of Louis’ hands skims over the slight curve of Harry’s ass, leaving a pleasant prickle in its wake. Then he feels the front of Louis’ thighs pressing up against the back of his own, Louis’ knuckles skimming against his skin as he rubs over his dick a few times before Harry feels the blunt pressure of the fleshlight shifting between his thighs. That’s Louis pressing into- into _Harry_ , pressing his dick into the pussy between Harry’s legs and Louis has the _best_ ideas.

“How’sit ?” Harry slurs, can’t seem to get his tongue going properly when all he wants to do is stare slack-jawed at his own hands fisted in Louis’ rumpled sheets.

Louis keeps pressing in until his hipbones rub against Harry’s ass, then he drapes himself down over Harry’s back until his lips press against the side of Harry’s throat. “Tight, love, you’re _so_ fucking tight,” he whispers into the curls at the base of Harry’s neck.  

“Shit,” Harry says, always the poet in these situations. His eyes squeeze shut when he feels the drag of Louis pulling out- and he _can_ feel it, a bit, the suction of the toy between his legs, pressing his own cock up against his belly. Louis shoves back in, hard enough that Harry’s hips jerk forward and his arms shake where he’s holding himself up.

“You feel so good, H,” Louis murmurs, just talking and talking, everything about how sweet Harry feels wrapped around him, how wet it is between his thighs, how good he’d tasted- and it’s all ridiculous, because none of it’s real, but also-

It’s good, it’s so good, and Harry can’t take it, swings his head from side to side, trying to get away from Louis’ stream of filth and bury himself in it all at once. He grinds his hips back to meet Louis’ thrusts, hissing when the fleshlight presses hard against his balls, rolls them just right.

“God, H, gonna come- come in you, in your pussy,” Louis grunts, voice tight and low, barely a rasp against Harry’s skin, but it’s so _much_ , words Harry never thought he’d hear aloud, no matter how many times he'd heard them inside his head.

“Yea, Lou, please,” he pants, pressing his thighs together tighter when Louis’ thrusts turn vicious, savage the way he goes right before he comes.

It’s curses after that, _fuck, fuck, fucking shit, fuck_ , then Louis’ hips jerk, stutter, followed by the familiar gasped, “ _Harry_ ” that always makes Harry’s skin flash hot, sends a flush all the way down to his cock.

Louis goes still, quiet, breathing heavily with his forehead pressed to Harry’s sweatslicked back, lips ghosting over the ridges of his spine. “Christ,” he says after a moment, voice wrecked, and Harry shudders, reaches a hand down between his own legs to palm at his dick. He loosens his thighs- achy and shivering now after being tensed for so long- and lets the fleshlight drop to the mattress.

“Was it good?” Harry asks, breathing ragged, can’t help himself as he tugs at his cock, desperate to get off with Louis’ words still buzzing around in his head. _Was I good?_ , but he doesn’t say that part at least.

Louis rolls his head until his cheek is resting on Harry’s back, slides one arm around Harry’s middle and the other down between Harry’s knees to pick up the discarded toy.

“So good, H,” he says, voice low and sleepy. He lazily swats Harry’s hand away from his dick, and Harry can feel Louis’ smile against the skin of his shoulder blade. “Gonna help,” he murmurs, and god, Harry loves this Louis so much, hazy post-orgasm Louis with the sleepy voice and heavy limbs.

Louis takes Harry’s dick in one hand, fumbles the fleshlight up against it with the other. Harry moans, quiet, can’t help it with the slick drag of the toy cunt sliding around him. And _god_ , that wet is from Louis, Louis’ spit and Louis’ come, that’s what Harry’s thrusting into, over and over. He drops his head down to look, sees one of Louis’ hands pressed to Harry’s belly to keep him still, the other working the fleshlight over Harry’s dick- and he can see the mess inside, his cock covered in _Louis_ , and he shakes apart, can’t help it when he thrusts weakly against Louis’ hand and spills into the plastic fleshlight as well.

Louis kisses his shoulder blades, down his back, always so sweet after sex. He’s careful when he pulls Harry’s softening cock out of the toy, guides him down onto the bed with the fleshlight on the sheets between them. Louis uses one hand to lazily stroke at Harry’s sweat-damp hair, the other to curiously roll the toy around. His eyelids are heavy, drooping, but he blinks up at Harry sleepily, smiling.

“Mess,” he mumbles, and Harry laughs, reaches to grab the dirty toy and drop it off the side of the bed before pulling Louis closer.

Louis is already half-asleep, but he puts up a valiant effort to grumble something like _can’t just go throwing your new pussy around, Harry, honestly._ Harry is too tired to roll his eyes this time, so he just presses his lips to Louis’ forehead, pulls the duvet over them both and listens to Louis’ breathing even out into sleep.

His brain is buzzing, happy but full. It was good, the whole thing- trying it, trying it with Louis. Harry feels- comfortable in his skin, now that there’s a way _out_ if he ever needs it. And he will, probably, need it again. The fleshlight is definitely not a long term fix, and on the days where sex isn’t the biggest issue in Harry’s _dysphoria_ , it won’t help at all, but-

Louis snuffles in his sleep, pulls himself tight around Harry, latching onto him like an octopus, like a promise. Harry let’s his eyes drift shut, smiles into Louis’ hair. He’ll work it out in the morning- or next week, or next year. They'll have to talk about this at some point, talk about it properly, but Harry doesn't feel worried. He’s got time (and Louis) on his side. 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> sorry the ending was a useless schmoopy trashcan  
> [tumblr](http://tippingvelvets.tumblr.com)  
> inspired a lot by that one fan encounter where louis was gr8 about someones gender id whatever whatever im only 800% emotional all the time


End file.
